Japanese Soldiers of the Super League: A War That Won’t End

The Last Holdouts: Echoes of WWII Resistance in Modern Disputes

World War II officially ended in August 1945. Or, at least, that’s what Japan’s surrender dictated. But in the humid depths of certain Pacific islands, among roots, vines, and relentless rain, the war continued to exude suffering for decades. At least for a group of Japanese fighters, nonconformists and adherents to that romantic idea that prevents surrendering arms, who continued fighting in the jungle for three more decades.

The story of the Japanese holdouts is one of those real fables that continues to explain certain human behaviors in the face of the finitude of some experiences. Men who did not know—or did not want to know—that the war had ended and rebelled against fate. The tale resonates today with the tragic and heroic end of the Super League project, which Florentino Pérez and Real Madrid are resisting abandoning after the last of their comrades-in-arms have already done so.

FC Barcelona formally announced its withdrawal from the business plan to create a closed European competition last Saturday, a more profitable competition for the clubs and one that would exclude smaller teams. Barça was the last remaining ally alongside Real Madrid in that thick and humid jungle after the collapse of the project in April 2021 on the program El Chiringuito. Manchester City, Atlético, Milan, Inter, Juventus, Tottenham, Manchester United, Chelsea, Liverpool…

The Super League effectively ended the day after it was presented. Or so the victors—that is, the British clubs and their fans—dictated, taking to the streets led by none other than the Queen of England, a passionate follower of the Premier League. And of its transformative power, of neighborhood football, of the stands. The then-Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, received a call from Buckingham Palace, sensed the popular fervor against it, and fell into line with threats to the clubs, even resorting to a “legislative bomb” if necessary. And that was that. Even though half of the British clubs were of American ownership, as was the spirit of the idea and the bank that was going to finance the competition.

The reasons why Barcelona remained there until Saturday, knowing that the war was over and keeping those straggling fighters going, are known only to Joan Laporta, who began his mandate hand-in-hand with Florentino and, two days before resigning to run for election again, broke away. It was very useful for dealing with the club’s debt (here appears the same bank as the Super League), seeking levers and even registering Dani Olmo with the intervention of the president of Real Madrid with the president of the Higher Sports Council (CSD), José Manuel Rodríguez Uribes. And Laporta, after five years, on the eve of the elections, needs to establish his own profile and put the scarf back on.

The Super League, in any case, are now those soldiers in the humid and lush jungle illuminated by the old promise of a great final victory. Of those 12 European clubs that supported the creation of a new competition that was going to save football, only one remains. If I were Ceferin, considering the state of the accounts of certain institutions and while one lone romantic fighter remains in the middle of the jungle, I wouldn’t declare victory.

The story of unwavering commitment to duty, even in the face of overwhelming odds and outdated orders, finds a parallel in the case of Hiroo Onoda. According to reports from the HistoryNet, Onoda, a second lieutenant in the Imperial Japanese Army, continued fighting on Lubang Island in the Philippines for nearly 29 years after the war ended in 1945. He and a small group of soldiers survived by foraging and occasionally clashing with locals.

Onoda’s refusal to surrender stemmed from a deep-seated belief in following orders, as he explained to ABC in 2010, stating, “I became an officer and I received an order. If I could not carry it out, I would feel shame. I am very competitive.” He didn’t believe the leaflets and letters dropped by the Allies informing him of the war’s end. As detailed in a Wikipedia entry, it wasn’t until 1974 that he was formally relieved of duty by his former commanding officer, Major Yoshimi Taniguchi, who traveled to the island to issue the order. Onoda surrendered on March 10, 1974, and was greeted as a hero upon his return to Japan.

The parallels between Onoda’s decades-long resistance and the continued pursuit of the Super League by Real Madrid are striking. Both represent a refusal to accept a changed reality and a commitment to a cause, even when it appears lost. While the circumstances are vastly different, the underlying theme of unwavering dedication to a perceived duty resonates in both narratives. The question remains whether, like Onoda, Florentino Pérez will eventually receive the “orders” – or perhaps, the shifting winds of financial and political reality – that will finally bring an end to this protracted battle.